Wind tugged at her long hair. Chareos’ muscles bunched under Fayne as he moved through the rocky landscape. He leaned to the side, narrowly missing a sliver of rock. Disembowelment was thankfully not on the menu. Chareos was a free spirit and Fayne never rode him with a saddle. She allowed him to run, placing her trust in his sharp sight and sharper instincts. He never disappointed. Together they streaked through Barden; Fayne hanging on for dear life. Sphinxes were capable of covering vast distanc...